A Woman’s Scent

My heart is pounding from exhilaration at the delightful exuberance that engulfed the room only moments ago. I make out Jeremy’s face as he side-steps through the crowd towards our candlelit dinner-table. 

‘What did I miss?’

‘Absolutely, nothing’, a glimmer sparkles over my eyes at the delicious delicate not-so-distant memory of those precious moments I had been in the arms of another man. 


I felt a warm gentle breeze tickle the hairs at the back of my neck as he placed his hand firmly on my shoulder. There was a certainty in his touch.

‘May I?’, his voice gentle yet firm. 

‘Ah – I am expecting my…’, before I am able to utter another word, I find myself unintentionally drawn towards him, my arm now wrapped over his as he leads me gracefully to the center of the room.

He nods, his eyes gazing straight at me like the world around us had turned to dust. Like he had known me forever.

He holds me close knowingly, like a painter familiar with his paintbrush or a sculptor familiar with his chisel, ready to create a masterpiece. His skill unparalleled even though we haven’t moved an inch yet.

The air fills with the sweet sound of a single violin, a woman in red plucking at the strings as they vibrate to the sound of Por Una Cambeza.

He leads me into the first footsteps, like a maestro. As his hips sway against mine, I follow his lead tiptoeing alongside his sure and steady strides. Like a pair of butterflies fluttering in harmonious rhythm, we glide across the room, our steps grinding to a holt along with the pauses in the musical notes.

Suddenly, he whips my body away at arm’s length as the cadenza kicks in, and swirls me back like a whirlwind into the warmth of his embrace.

The thrill of the moment transported me to another dimension, until only for a glimpse in space and time I found myself in a daze, a momentary relapse during which I considered my next flight or fight move; should I stay in his arms, or should I run to find my fiancé who will be expecting me any moment now? I am a good girl you see; I don’t do ‘this’. Whatever, ‘this’ is.

Cheek to cheek, we float along to the vibes of the violin dancing in the air particles, until we are thrust into a second wave of the cadenza, drawing us closer to our finale. 

Before I could take a final breath of pure pleasure and delight, the room goes silent, our feet firmly touching the ground.

He pulls me close for one last moment, the only armour between our pounding hearts our clothes and our chest cavities. He whispers to me words that change my life forever as he takes a seductive whiff of my hair, ‘Chanel Mademoiselle, the essence of a bold, free woman’. 

A roaring applause fills the room, as I blush and step back just out of reach.

There it was again, that gaze, like he was able to reach deep into the depths of my soul. 

He leads me off the dancefloor just as gracefully as he placed me there. As I turn with a beaming smile to thank him for the most pleasurable moments I have felt in what seemed all eternity, a young man peers out of nowhere, and hands him a white cane, ‘Colonel Strike, it’s time to go!’.

As my heart continued pounding, I came to the stark realisation that a blind man was able to peer into my soul, to identify my desires more than any sited man could ever manage. More than my fiancé had ever achieved. If this stranger was able to show me who I am in a few moments that I haven’t known about myself my whole life, am I sure that Jeremy is in fact the man of my dreams without a shadow of a doubt?

‘Jeremy, I am sorry, I must leave’, I place my napkin on the table and make to towards the exit.

‘When will you be back?’, he enquires, snatching my hand.

‘Never’, I pull myself loose.

In that moment I found out who I truly am. A woman with a desires, to feel true passion, to explore a world with endless possibilities. A bold, free woman.

Oh, Delilah!


Ariel’s Fate

“Fiction is the truth inside the lie.”

Stephen King

Games Writing